Thanksgiving is pretty much my favorite holiday. I mean, what fat girl wouldn’t love a day dedicated to nothing more than eating copious amounts of food? Plus there are no presents to buy just parades to watch, coffee to drink, pies to bake, and food food FOOOOOD to eat. But it is also a day to give thanks for your many blessings (count your blessings, name them one by one…. (sorry, I think I’ve mentioned before that sometimes the Mormon in me comes out – especially in the form of hymns)) and because I have so much to be thankful for this year I thought I should acknowledge it in some sort of public fashion. So, without further adieu, here is what makes my heart happy:

My husband. I debated about putting the baby first, but he won out because without him nothing in my life would be possible, and I truly believe that. He is my best friend and the love of my life. He anchors me, he helps me, he listens to me, he loves me. Plus which, he puts up with all of my bullshit. I am a lucky woman.

My beautiful new daughter. Nothing in this world could have prepared me for how I would feel about her. She is my reason for living and the coolest thing that has ever happened to me.

My parents (all four of them). Becoming a parent has made me appreciate mine even more. They did (and continue to do) a whole lot of good stuff for me and my little family. Plus, they done raised me up right and taught me how to live the right way in a world that constantly tries to steer you in the wrong direction.

My brothers and sister. They are the greatest friends and family anyone could have, and I miss them like crazy every day (come to Vegas, y’all! we’ve got SUNSHINE!)

Jason’s family. I know some people are not so fond of their in-laws, but I really lucked out in that department. They are wonderful people who, like my own family, we could not have made it through the past year without.

Having a job. I didn’t work for over a year and though it was nice being able to gestate in the comfort of my own home (especially with all the effing complications) we really need the money. I have officially graduated from my internship (I got a certificate and everything!) and am now a gainfully employed human once again.

Our new apartment in a much better (read as hookerless) neighborhood. You guys, oh you GUYYYYS. We had to pass through our old part of town today on our way to somewhere else and EWWWWW I am glad to be out of there.

The weather in Las Vegas. Thanksgiving forecast: Sunny with a high of 71. ’nuff said.

Okay. I have toilets to clean and mise en place to chop so I must away. Happy Thanksgiving y’all. Peace.

You guys! I put my baby in the stroller and walked to the library! Who cares, right? Well listen, I’ve been pretty much a shut-in for nearly 4 months. Except for necessary trips to the pediatrician I never take her anywhere because it is such a giant pain in the ass, and she screams whenever she is put in the car seat. Plus, I don’t have a car, so where would I go? Especially in that hideous neighborhood we used to live in. But today I suddenly had wicked cabin fever and decided that since we no longer live amongst the hookers and the crack dealers, and since the library is within walking distance I was stuffing her in the stroller and going for it. And it was fine! She only screamed when I put her in the stroller. Once we got going she was fine. She didn’t even flip out in the library. And, as a bonus, she fell asleep on the way home and is still out 30 minutes later. God bless napping babies. And can I just say, winter in Vegas? So delightful.

Or sometimes seven days. Or however many it has been since this. Things are still crazy around here, and I am still having moments of panic, and my baby is still having trouble sleeping, but I feel a little less terrorized by it all. Yes, a LITTLE LESS. And that might not sound like much, but really, it’s huge. Those small moments of feeling normal are what I have to cling to sometimes. If you live with depression and anxiety you might know how I feel, but if you don’t, I’ll try to explain. The days that are a little heavy on the anxiety are the worst for me. Depression I can live with because over the years I’ve gotten quite adept at it. Really. I suspect I’ve had it since childhood (maybe age 10 or 11) and so it feels quite normal to me. It’s just the lens through which I view my world. Some days are worse than others, but mostly it’s just “meh” and a shoulder shrug to me. But the anxiety is sort of a new beast that came along in my 30s. And I hate it. Even when you have very real reasons to be anxious (moving, pregnancy complications, money issues, moving again, first-time parenthood, starting a new job, more money issues), it just sucks. It sucks to feel rigid with worry all day long. Sometimes I am constantly worrying worrying worrying. Sometimes I will suddenly notice that my shoulders are sitting right underneath my ears because I am so hunched up. And then I develop these knots in my shoulder muscles. And then I get a headache. And then I can’t sleep at night. And this especially sucks because since I have a 4-month-old (OMG – 4 MONTHS PEOPLE) baby I am still in the sleep-when-she-sleeps phase and so when she is slumbering peacefully for the few hours a night that she does it and I’m lying awake wondering if I’ll ever get good enough at my job to make money at it I start wondering how hard it is to get ahold of chloroform and would it put me to sleep? Anybody have the number of that Conrad Murray guy? I’m kidding. Really. Mostly what I came here to write about (and then got completely waylaid by my mental illness) is that this week is better than last week. Louisa had some really bad days, especially this weekend. She didn’t sleep much Friday or Saturday night, but Jason was here and he got up with me when I got up with her. And he went to McDonald’s at 4 am Saturday morning when it appeared that Lou was up for the day and all I wanted was a bacon egg n cheese biscuit and some orange juice (and then, just as the car was pulling away from the apartment she went back to sleep and I just laughed). But, she has also had some good days. Sunday was good. Monday was better. Yesterday? Not so much. I worked last night and she fussed (by which I mean hollered) almost the entire time. In fact, she started at around 3 in the afternoon. It’s almost like she knew that I was going to be away from her for 5 hours. I’m not saying it’s separation anxiety, because she’s way too young for that, but she just isn’t accustomed to being away from me and my boobs for that long. Because no, since you’re asking, I don’t have her on a schedule (so I just feed her whenever it seems like she might be hungry). And I’m sure a schedule would help. But you guys, how do I put her on a schedule when I am not even on one? The past month or so has been chaos on top of chaos with a side of wheeeeee! So anyway, I’m hoping that once things settle and Jason and I have figured out what schedule works for us, she’ll get to be more okay with it. Luckily I work from home (which I did on purpose to be home with her) so when I need to I interrupt myself for a few minutes and breast feed her while I proofread and edit. For right now it’s working. And for right now I’m not anxious. I’m really looking forward to Thanksgiving, even though I’m cooking way too much food and people are coming to my new apartment that isn’t put together yet. Because it’s going to be FUN and DELICIOUS and my beloved mama for whom my daughter is named is going to be here for 5 days!

In closing, Lou has been sleeping now for about an hour (a nap! an actual nap!) so I had a chance to catch up on blogs I like to read and I spotted this on dooce. And I realized that A. I’m not alone. B. Children don’t sleep right and they never will. C. Someday Louisa will be 8 years old and despite the fact that she only sleeps for a few hours at a time and that when she sleeps longer I panic and think she’s dead, I’m going to look back and miss these days so I better just enjoy them. D. I miss Utah.

Oh you guys. What a mother fucker of a few weeks it has been around here. And by the way, I might be swearing a lot in this post so if you’re easily offended please go away. I’m sleep deprived, sad, and frustrated and my writing skills are suffering thusly. I almost titled this post FUCK because that’s just how I feel. What can I say? Louisa, Louisa, Louisa. My daughter, my sweetheart, the love of my life has been a monster lately. No really. She was such a joy up until about 3 weeks ago and then suddenly she stopped sleeping, started wanting to nurse all day long and started throwing these horrid screaming fits. She is teething. I hate it. Mostly I just want to comfort her and make it go away, and I can’t. But if we’re being completely honest, sometimes I get so tired and frustrated and sick to death of hearing her scream that I feel like I am losing my mind. And then I feel like a terrible mother. And before you ask me, yes we’ve tried teething gel, yes we’ve tried teething tablets – they don’t work. The only thing that works is Tylenol but we only give it to her at night so she will get some sleep. Because if she doesn’t sleep at night she won’t nap the next day (it’s a vicious cycle) and the longer she doesn’t sleep the louder she screams and the more wound up she gets and then she’s crying so hard she can’t catch her breath and then Jason and I are driving her around in the car, bathing her, rubbing her back, doing anything at all to desperately try to stop the cycle. That happened last night. While I was trying to work. Because yes, while all of this baby hysteria is happening we moved into a new apartment and I started my new job. All at the same fucking time. Not sure we could have planned it worse had we tried (which we didn’t, by the way). So yeah. The last time she slept well was Friday night. I have been taking care of her all day, then working from 5:30 to 9:30 every night. My husband has been working from 7 to 4 everyday, then taking care of her while I work. Needless to say we are both exhausted. Eventually things will settle down with work because once I am through my internship period I can work whenever I want. Right now I am coordinating with my mentor because we need to be online and working at the same time. And eventually Louisa’s tooth (teeth?) will just come in already god dammit and this nightmare will be over. Right? RIGHT? Please? Anyone? It’s so sad too because on the flip side of the teething and the screaming, Louisa is growing up and doing such cute things! Like grabbing things and shoving them in her mouth, laughing right out loud, shrieking with delight, and trying super hard to turn herself over. So some moments are so filled with joy. And in case you’re judging me harshly about what a jerk I am, don’t get me wrong, I love my daughter so much that I would throw myself in front of a speeding train for her. I would. But MY GOD the screaming.

Let’s move on. My daughter is 3 & 1/2 months old, and for most of that time I have been with her 24/7. My mom was here a couple of weekends ago, and on that Monday when she was scheduled to leave she took one look at my sleep-deprived, desperate eyes and said “I’m staying an extra day”. Thank god for moms. She helped me soothe Louisa. She helped me figure out what to do. She helped me feel better about how I was coping. She helped me see that I was going to have to start letting go. I have to let people help. I have to let other people shoulder some of the responsibility – especially my husband, and especially since I have started working. She told me all of this. And I believed her. But it still hasn’t been easy. On moving day I had to help. I had to clean. I had to move. Both my and Jason’s parents had come to town with their big trucks to help us move. My step-mom helped me watch the baby while I got stuff done. There were whole hour-long periods where she wasn’t even in my sight. We moved on Saturday. On Monday my mother-in-law drove back down to help us out. Again, she watched the baby while I got stuff done. Jason and I even, at one point, left the house to go get groceries. I left my baby alone with somebody else for almost an hour! I was proud of myself and scared shitless at the same time. Is something wrong with me? The rest of you were leaving your babies with strangers at 3 months, weren’t you. I’m a freak of nature, aren’t I. And then all this week Jason has been taking care of her while I work in the other room. Except for sometimes I sneak out. Especially when she is screaming so loud I can hear her from the other side of the apartment through two closed doors. And then Jason gets mad because YOU’RE GOING TO GET FIRED even though I’m not because A – nobody knows what I’m doing because they can’t see me through the computer and B – I get paid by how much I type, not by the hour, so yeah – they don’t really give a shit but still, he gets pissed because he thinks I’m undermining his parenting and doesn’t think I trust him and maybe he’s right, maybe I need to just let go, but it’s so hard because sometimes the only thing that will soothe her is me and my boobies. Sigh. You guys. I need a nap. Or a good cry (which, admittedly, I’ve had quite a few of lately). Or a giant glass of wine (which I haven’t had in who the hell knows how long but DAMN if I wasn’t breastfeeding…). And if I tell you that sometimes I watch TV all day long while I’m taking care of the baby just so I can hear human voices would you think less of me?

Sorry about the stream-of-consciousness, garbage dump of a post. I don’t even have time to proofread and edit it so I’m sure there are typos and sentences that barely make sense. But I just wanted to get it out in the hopes that it would make me feel just a little bit better. Tonight: another test. Louisa has physical therapy, but I have to work so Jason has to take her all by himself. I’m sure I won’t worry at all. And, just as an aside, did I mention I’m hosting and cooking Thanksgiving dinner? Which just happens to be the day after Louisa’s 4 month vaccinations? Yeah. If you don’t hear from me again it’s because I’ve had a nervous breakdown.

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